The campus felt different in the late evening — quieter, softer, touched by a faint wind that made the tree leaves whisper like they knew secrets she was only now beginning to understand.
Sera walked slowly toward the administrative building.
Her breath steady.
Her expression calm.
Her heart… almost painfully quiet.
Today had been beautiful.
Perfect, even.
The last gift she had asked of life as Sera Kim.
But now… the real world was calling.
And she could not ignore it anymore.
The hallway inside the building was dim, lit only by the warm lights glowing above the framed photographs of old deans and alumni. Her footsteps echoed softly, the stillness wrapping around her like a gentle farewell.
She paused at the familiar door.
"Chairman's Office."
The secretary looked up in recognition the second she entered.
"Good morning, Miss Sera. Chairman Park is waiting inside."
Waiting.
Of course he was.
She thanked the secretary softly and walked toward the door. Before she could knock, a familiar voice called from inside:
"Come in, Seraphina."
Her breath caught.
Not Sera. Not Miss Kim.
Seraphina.
Her real name. Her first name. The one she hid so carefully.
She pushed the door open.
Chairman Park sat behind his polished wooden desk, glasses perched low on his nose, the faintest smile on his face — a smile she remembered from years ago, one that had always felt older than her but safe.
He looked up as she stepped in, eyes warm, gentle, and knowing.
"You grew again," he said softly. "Every time I see you, you look more like your mother."
Sera swallowed. "It's been a while."
"It has." His expression softened further. "Come here, child. Let me see you properly."
She walked closer, and the moment she stood before him, Chairman Park reached out and placed a hand over hers — warm, fatherly, grounding.
"You didn't have to call me," she whispered, eyes flickering downward.
He sighed — a long, tender sound.
"Oh, Seraphina… you always say that. And yet you always come."
She smiled faintly.
"Because you're the only one who speaks to me like this."
He chuckled softly. "Because I am the only one who remembers you from before you hid behind this name."
Her throat tightened.
Before she could speak, he released her hands and gestured to the chair beside his desk. She sat, quietly, and he leaned back in his seat with a slow, weary exhale.
"I knew this day would come," he said gently.
Those words… they weren't cold or dramatic.
They sounded like a man who had watched a child grow up and knew she would eventually step beyond the small world he created for her.
"You were never meant to stay here forever, Seraphina. You came to rest. To heal. To live as someone ordinary for a little while."
She looked down at her hands.
"I thought I could stay longer," she murmured.
"I thought I could decide when."
Chairman Park folded his hands.
"You wanted time. You needed it. And we gave you four years. Sometimes I even forgot you weren't just another bright young woman meant to change the world."
A breath trembled in her chest.
He smiled softly.
"You hid well. Too well. Even from yourself."
Sera looked up at him, eyes calm but heavy.
"Did you know this would happen?" she asked quietly.
"That I would… break a little?"
Chairman Park's expression grew sad and strangely proud.
"Of course," he said gently.
"It is impossible to live, truly live, and leave without breaking something inside."
She inhaled slowly.
"And I… I did live, didn't I?"
"Yes," he whispered. "More than you know."
Silence settled between them like a warm blanket, soft and full of memories she hadn't allowed herself to revisit — arriving at this campus with trembling hands, hiding her last name, building a new version of herself, learning to laugh again, learning to trust again.
She blinked slowly.
"Did I do something wrong?"
The chairman almost smiled at the absurdity.
"Child." His voice was both gentle and firm.
"You have lived here with dignity. With kindness. With quiet strength. There is no wrong in you."
Her eyes burned for a second, but she didn't let tears fall.
"I don't want them to know," she said softly.
"Not the students. Not the staff. I… built this life with my hands. I want to leave without shaking it."
"Of course," he said.
"I will make sure everything is handled quietly. No questions. No whispers."
She exhaled, relieved.
Then Chairman Park stood up, walked to the window, and motioned for her to join him. She did.
"Look outside," he murmured.
She looked.
Students rushing. Laughing. Running late. Holding coffee cups. Living loudly.
A world she once believed she could stay inside.
"You see them?" he asked.
"Yes."
"You were never meant to disappear into the crowd," he said softly.
"Though you tried. You succeeded too well. But the world that waits for you isn't here, Seraphina."
"I know," she whispered.
"And it's alright to mourn that," he added gently.
"You were Sera Kim beautifully. You loved, you studied, you found friends. You lived as if you belonged here."
Her shoulders trembled quietly.
"I did belong. For a while."
"Yes," Chairman Park said, smiling faintly.
"For a while. And that is enough."
She closed her eyes for a brief moment, and he didn't interrupt.
When she spoke again, her voice was soft.
"I'm afraid I'll forget this version of me."
Chairman Park gently placed a hand on her shoulder.
"You will not forget," he promised.
"You will carry her with you — the girl who learned to laugh, to fail, to succeed, to love quietly, to heal. Seraphina is your name… but Sera Kim is your heart."
Her breath shook.
His voice softened even more.
"And one day, when the world you are meant to rule becomes heavy and lonely… you will remember this campus, these streets, those friends. And you will remember that you were once allowed to be seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen. Twenty. Young. Stupid. Brave. Alive."
A tear slid down her cheek before she realized.
He didn't wipe it.
He simply placed a warm hand over hers again.
"Child," he murmured, voice gentle as sunlight,
"You and I both knew this story had an ending."
"…yes."
"And endings," he whispered, "are simply beginnings wearing heavier clothing."
She managed a small, trembling smile.
"Go live today," Chairman Park said softly.
"Go laugh. Go sit under your favorite tree. Go eat with your friends. Go be Sera Kim… one last time."
Her chest tightened painfully.
"Yes."
"And when you are ready," he added, "come here. I'll walk you out myself."
Her lips parted in a small, grateful smile.
"Thank you," she whispered.
"For everything."
Chairman Park shook his head.
"No, child. Thank you… for choosing to live here for four beautiful years."
She bowed her head, feeling her heart swell and break at the same time.
As she turned to leave, his voice called after her:
"And Seraphina?"
She looked back.
He smiled — warm, sad, proud.
"You have never disappointed me. Not once."
Something inside her — something old, something young, something deeply human — cracked softly, quietly, beautifully.
She left the office with slow steps, the hallway light warm on her skin, her heart full and aching.
Today, she would be Sera Kim.
Tomorrow… she wouldn't.